


Make The Night Last Forever

by Phoebe_Snow



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fate & Destiny, First Meetings, Fluff, Injury, Inspired by Tumblr Prompt, Meet-Cute, Restaurant/bar, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, Song fic, Strangers, WIP, neighbor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-21 05:16:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9533423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoebe_Snow/pseuds/Phoebe_Snow
Summary: When Steve's blind date is forced to skip their night out, Natasha decides to fill in her shoes.





	1. A Stranger is Just A Friend You Haven't Met Yet

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I've been gone for such a long time, guys. My writing inspiration was waning for a bit and the wifi/internet connection at home is acting wonky. Hopefully, it'll be fixed soon, but until then, updates may be slower than usual. I will be posting another chapter of two of my other Romanogers fics tomorrow, so be on the lookout for that.

* * *

 

 

 _Let's pretend you're mine_  
_You got what I like, I got what you like_  
_Oh, come on just one taste and you'll want more_  
_So tell me what you're waiting for_ \- The Veronicas '4Ever'

 

* * *

 

 

  
Natasha found herself getting bored. There were hardly any people sitting at the bar tonight. More customers had chosen to eat in the dining part of the restaurant instead of sit at the counter and get a drink. There was nothing wrong with that, of course, but Natasha liked getting tips from her patrons. She also had a way with people, so she always ended up having a good time on her job.

 

  
At the moment, she only had a young blond named Steve who was nursing a glass of Sam Adams at the bar. He'd caught her eye from the first moment he stepped into the bar section of Barton's. The pitch black suit and tie he wore made him look very dashing.

 

  
For the last half hour that Steve had been there, Natasha could see that he was as agreeable in appearance as he was in manners. He told her with enthusiasm that he was waiting for a blind date. Lucky bitch, Natasha thought to herself. The more she spoke to Steve, the more jealous she was of the woman who would have dinner with him.

 

  
The nervousness in Steve's demeanour began to give way to mild concern as time passed. His date - Sharon was her name - was supposed to have met him at the restaurant twelve minutes ago. "Bucky, my friend who set this up, told me to be here at seven, but I wonder where she is."

 

  
Natasha waved her hand and replied, "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing. She probably just got caught in traffic. That happens a lot around this time of the year." She hummed to herself. "I remember when I had a blind date a few years back. It started raining when I was walking across the street to the restaurant."

 

  
"Really?" Steve's eyes widened and he took a drink of his beer. When his hand brushed against hers, Natasha wrote it off as an accident, but damn, if his skin didn't feel amazing on her own. "You made it inside before you got too wet, right?"

 

  
"Nope. It was one of those sudden downpours and I was soaked through by the time I got inside. Talk about an embarrassing situation. I mean, I was drenched from head to toe in less than a minute. When I got inside, I ran straight to the bathroom, but my hair had turned into a frizzy mess and worse, the dress I wore wasn't the kind that allowed you to wear a bra, so..."

 

  
"You looked like a lady of the evening?"

 

  
"Yep, and to add insult to injury, I got kicked out of the restaurant, too."

 

  
"No way!"

 

  
"Oh, yeah. And the funnier part is that my date didn't even show up. He ran into his old girlfriend and dropped me. After I went home and changed into something dry, I found out that he sent me a text. It was something along the lines of _'Hey, I'm sorry that I didn't make it, but my ex and I reconciled unexpectedly and I decided that it would be a good idea to cancel the date. Best of luck to you.'"_

 

  
"Wow, what an asshole."

 

  
"Agreed. I've met too many assholes in my life to count. Just once, I'd like to confer with someone even semi-normal."

 

  
Steve smiled sheepishly and placed his hand on his chest. "Well, you've got me."

 

  
Natasha felt her heart speed up a bit and she scoffed, refilling the small bowl that was in front of him with pretzels. "I don't know. You _could_ be a crazy man in disguise."

 

  
"Well, then, you'll have to get to know me." There was a mischievous tilt in his voice that made Natasha pause. Was he really flirting with her while he was waiting for his date?

 

  
If he was, Natasha found it hard to care, as it gave her the opportunity to gaze into those pretty blue eyes of his. "Those are pretty bold words, considering that you're meeting someone else tonight. For all you know, it could be destiny and Sharon could be the one, but you're flirting with me. You're not exactly making yourself out to be a wholesome guy." She gave him a pointed look.

 

  
A bright red blush appeared on his cheeks and he stammered, eyes wide with nervousness and embarrassment. "Oh, no. I didn't mean like that. I just meant that it'd be nice to get to know you a little better and maybe vice versa. It's been pretty nice talking to you, but if that makes you uncomfortable..."

 

  
Now it was Natasha's turn to feel embarrassed and ashamed that he had hidden motives behind what he just said. "I'm not uncomfortable. I like you, too-I mean...it's been _great_ talking to you this past half hour. People usually tend to open up to me, which is just one of those things that comes with being a bartender. You're a little different than most of my customers."

 

  
"Well, thank you, Natasha. I take that as a compliment."

 

  
"As you should." She smiled at him and gave him a little wink.

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
"Well, tonight's plans are scrapped." Steve turned off his phone and put it in his suit pocket, a disappointed look on his face.

 

  
Natasha looked over at him curiously. "What's up? Did your date cancel?"

 

  
"No. Her heel broke when she was walking to her car and she twisted her ankle."

 

  
"Whoa. Is she okay?"

 

  
"Yeah, she's at the hospital, getting it wrapped. That's why I haven't heard from her." He smiled at Natasha with a rueful grin. "At least she didn't run into an ex-boyfriend or decide to drop me."

 

  
"Tch, what a bummer, though. It sucks you've been here for well over an hour and you haven't eaten."

 

  
The blond munched on a few more pretzels and cocked his head to the side. "Ah, well. I guess I can go back home and reheat some of my leftovers from last night."

 

  
As Steve spoke, Clint came over to Natasha and patted her on the back. "Hey, 'Tasha. Your shift is over now."

 

  
The redhead turned to look at her friend in surprise. "What? Already?"

 

  
"Mmhm. It's six past eight."

 

  
"Oh...alright." Natasha sighed and stepped out from behind the bar, loosening her tie in relief. She went over to Steve and stood in front of as she leaned against the counter. "Well, it's been nice talking to you."

 

  
"Ditto. It's not every day that I meet such an interesting bartender...bartendress?"

 

  
She chuckled. "Bartender is fine. Are, uh...you gonna be okay?"

 

  
Steve's lips curved up into a smile and he blushed faintly. "Yeah. It was great having company, but I wouldn't ask you to stay for me. I'll be fine."

 

  
"Okay. Maybe I'll see you around here again?"

 

  
"I think there's a good chance of that happening, yes."

 

  
"Great." She held out her hand and he shook it. "Until next time, Steve." Then she began to walk away, but stopped after a few steps. "You know, I actually live in an apartment half a block away from here. If you want, I could cook you something." Maybe she was crazy to have said it, but Natasha had really taken a liking to Steve and it was obvious they had a growing rapport, so what the hell.

 

  
Although, the surprised look Steve made in response to Natasha's proposition caused her to wonder if maybe she shouldn't have said anything. That is, until his lips spread in a slow smile and thankfully, her fears were put to rest. "You'd do that? For me?"

 

  
A little smirk appeared on her face as she replied, "Sure. Hospitality doesn't just have to be a southern thing, you know. That custom applies to anywhere, no matter where you live."

 

  
"I can't argue with that. Supposing I take you up on this offer, what do you plan to make?"

 

  
"Something that you'll love. Don't worry. I'm a talented cook. I rarely get any complaints."

 

  
"Are you a chef or something?"

 

  
She nodded. "I worked as one for a while, in Russia, but I was ready for a change and it became necessary for me to leave."

 

  
"Cryptic, but okay. You know, you don't owe me anything, Natasha."

 

  
The redhead chuckled and nodded. "True, but maybe this isn't about owing you anything. Maybe I just want to make a new friend."

 

  
"Is that all?" Steve's eyes probed her carefully, searching for something.

 

  
Natasha's heart pounded against her chest and she blew out a soft breath. It had been a long time since any man made her feel even a little unsure of herself. Like she thought before, Steve was different than other men she'd met. "One can't have too many friends, right? Besides, your date has been canceled and I hate eating alone. So why don't we enjoy each other's company?"

 

  
"...okay. Why not?" Steve got off his stool and gave Natasha a smile. "There's nothing better than home cooking." He held his hand out towards the door. "Lead on."

 

  
"Alright. Let's go." Natasha looped her arm with Steve's and they walked out of Barton's together. There wasn't a lengthy distance to her apartment, as she said earlier, but Natasha kept her pace slow so she could enjoy the warmth of Steve's body close to her own.

 

 


	2. Or Something More

 

It wasn't every day that Natasha invited a strange man to her apartment - especially when said was a man was supposed to be having a blind date in the restaurant where she worked. Life just turned out that way, though, and she wasn't going to complain one bit.

  
Steve had kindly offered to help her cook the stroganoff - man, he was just racking up points with her - and she gratefully accepted. During that time, they got to know each other well as they talked about themselves.

  
Natasha discovered that Steve was a sensitive soul and loved art deeply. He opened a gallery in New York, was the owner/manager of it and still had time to paint in his spare time. He had a lot of passion for his career and she found herself drawn to him more and more as he spoke.

  
Steve, in return, learned that Natasha worked as a legal assistant, but quit after two years and chose to go after her desire to be a ballerina. At the moment, she was a student of the New York Ballet Company and worked part-time at Barton's, which happened to be her friend, Clint's restaurant.

  
They both took their time, cooking and talking to each other. From the amiable way they got along, one would think that they were lovers. Time passed and the stroganoff was nearly done. Natasha was just taking the beef and noodles out of the oven when Steve received a text from Bucky.

  
_Hey, Steve. Sharon's at home, resting. She's not going to be very mobile for the next few days, but if you want, I can set something up for the two of you later when she's better._

  
The blond looked down at his phone screen for a moment, then turned his gaze to Natasha as she closed the oven door and take the cover off the casserole dish where their dinner had been cooked. Something about the scene made his heart beat fast and he had a feeling that he wouldn't want to go out with anyone else.

  
_Sorry, Bucky, but I, uh, I met someone. At the bar of the restaurant, I mean._

_  
...an old friend?_

_  
No, a new one. We've talked for quite a bit at the bar and she invited me back to her place - and not for that, so don't any ideas. It was a friendly invitation to dinner and I decided to accept since the date wasn't going to happen._

_  
Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense. You were probably so embarrassing that she felt compelled to take you home and feed you, like a cute little golden retriever._

  
A red flush appeared on Steve's cheeks. _Shut up, jerk._

_  
Never gonna happen, punk. So this girl. What's she like?_

_  
Well, she's got a wicked sense of humor, she's good at cheering people up, she has an affinity for good food and she's...she's unlike anyone I've ever met before, and that's refreshing._

_  
Sounds like she's a keeper._

_  
We're not in a relationship, Buck._

_  
Ah, who the hell cares? If you like this girl and she shows the slightest interest in you, take a chance and tell her that you want to see her again._

_  
Maybe..._

_  
Hey, you only live once, Steve. Stop being such a damn scaredy cat and do something bold for a change._

_  
I'm at her house, Bucky. What could be more bold than that?_

_  
I could think of a few things..._

_  
You're hopeless._

_  
And you love it, kid._

_  
Whatever. I gotta go. I'll talk to you later._

_  
No doubt about it. When you come to work, I want to hear all the sordid details about you and Miss...uh, what's her name?_

_  
Natasha._

_  
Natasha. Damn. I bet she's a bombshell._

_  
She really is. See you later._

_  
Bye._

  
Steve turned off his phone and slipped it into his back pocket, then went back over to Natasha. She sent him a questioning look. "Oh, that was my friend, Bucky. He wanted to know if I'd care to reschedule a date with Sharon some other time, but I said no."

  
"Oh? Why'd you tell him no?" Natasha's tone was innocent, but the look in her eyes said something else.

  
He caught on and smirked at her. "You already know why. Mm, dinner's ready?"

  
She enjoyed breathing in the delicious scent of the cooked stroganoff. "Yes."

  
"Then let's eat. I'm famished."

 

* * *

 

  
  
After dinner, Steve helped Natasha clean up and load the dishwasher and they went into the living room to relax with another glass of wine.

  
"So, that was, without a doubt, the **best** stroganoff I've ever eaten in my life."

  
"Well, I'm guessing that was the first time you've eaten it homemade and helped make it, so I'd say that you're right. And thank you for the lovely compliment."

  
"No problem and you're right. The only experience I've ever had with stroganoff is those little frozen Michelina dinners."

  
Natasha almost spit out her wine when he said that. Once she got her laugh and cough fit under control, she responded, "What, the ninety-nine cent ones at the grocery store?"

  
Steve's face was beet red at the moment, which was a nice look on him. Absently, Natasha wondered just how far down that blush went. Maybe if she felt a little lucky later tonight, she'd see if he'd be willing to show her.

  
"Yeah, that's the extent of my Russian cuisine."

  
"Ooh, you are treading dangerous territory here, Rogers. It's one of the highest forms of an insult to have only eaten a Russian dish from an American-based food company. I just might have to punish you for that."

  
"Well, I should get points off for helping you cook, right?"

  
That trademark smirk came back onto Natasha's face as she leaned forward in Steve's direction. "True, but a bit of extra credit wouldn't hurt."

  
The blond across from her picked up on the mischief in her voice and he returned the smirk she sent him, fighting fire with flirtatious fire as he said, "Sounds good. What do I have to do to get it?"

  
Natasha's eyes lowered to look at his lips for a few brief, delicious seconds, then her eyes were back on his. "It's a pretty simple assignment." Then she pressed herself against him, bringing their bodies close together and her lips covered his own.

  
Steve stiffened, no doubt, in surprise and Natasha felt a tinge of horror that she may have made a mistake. Seconds later, though, he raised his hands up to touch her shoulders and squeeze them. He then took her bottom lip between his teeth and nipped it gently.

  
The kiss was so sensual that Natasha felt her toes curl from the pleasure of it. Eventually, she had to pull back to breath and she did so, grasping his hand, not wanting to let go of him just yet. "Wow."

 

He laughed, a satisfied expression on his face. "My sentiments exactly."

 

"Uh, I don't...I don't usually do this kind of thing. Actually, I don't **ever** do this kind of thing."

  
"Me neither, but I really do enjoy your company, Natasha."

  
Natasha's eyes glowed with a subtle, yet intense heat. "As I enjoy yours. I'm tempted to ask you to stay...but I have ballet practice at five thirty tomorrow morning."

  
He grazed her wrist with his thumb. "Beauty needs her sleep."

  
"Yes, but we should do this again. Soon."

  
"I agree. Are you free Saturday evening? Around six o'clock?"

  
"Yes. I'm off work and we never practice on Saturdays."

  
"Good. You'll be hearing from me, then." Steve leaned down and kissed her softly, revelling in the softness of her full lips. When he pulled back, he said, "See you in a few days."

  
"See you," she responded breathlessly and sighed in content as he made his way to the door and gave her a wink before exiting.

  
Natasha grabbed on to her pillow and screamed into it, needing to let out her excitement in some way. It was safe to say that she'd be in a great place well after their next date and the date after that and the date after that.

  
Actually, it may have been a bit too soon to think this, but Natasha was sure that she'd **never** date another man again.

 


	3. Addendum

 

 

Sharon sighed and plopped her head on her pillow. It really sucked that she was going to be off her feet for the next handful of days. She really hated staying in one place and preferred to be moving or doing something. Unfortunately, her condition prohibited her from excessive movement otherwise, she'd injure her ankle and her foot, so she would just have to manage.

 

She picked up the remote control and turned on the tv. For a few seconds, she couldn't find anything good on - to be honest, there was absolutely nothing of interest on television these days. Just when she was about to turn the tv off and toss the remote back on her coffee table in frustration, she found an episode of Judge Judy playing.

 

"Finally!" She exclaimed in relief and nestled against the relaxing cushions in her couch. Judge Judy was always a great choice. The woman was badass to the core and she did not play with idiots. Sharon loved watching her show.

 

After watching three episodes of Judge Judy, Sharon's eyes began to droop. Sleep was closing in on her and she welcomed it, but the doorbell rang and snapped her back in the land of the conscious.

 

The blonde glared at her front door with malice and annoyance. She really did not feel like hobbling over to see who was coming by at... ten thirty?! Really. Some people were so inconsiderate.

 

The doorbell rang again and Sharon's eyes squinted. Would she go to jail for punching whoever had the audacity to ring her doorbell so late? Groaning, she got off the couch and hobbled over the front door. A look through the spyglass revealed the person to be none other than her handsome neighbour, Sam.

 

Sam was a nice guy, very nice and it was clear from the friendly exchanges they'd made in the past few weeks that he was interested in her. Sharon liked him, too but since he hadn't asked her out or told her how he felt about her, she'd passively agreed to go on a blind date with Bucky's friend, Steve.

 

That, of course, never came to pass and here was Sam Wilson, knocking on her door. Well, she wasn't going to leave the man outside in the cold winter air, so she opened the door and gave him a kind smile. "Hi. Come on in."

 

He smiled back, showing that cute little gap between his two front teeth as he stepped into the house. "Hey, Sharon. I heard about what happened to your foot and just wanted to say I'm sorry."

 

"Thanks." She closed the door and glanced down, noticing for the first time that he was holding a covered bowl in his hands. "What's this?"

 

"Baked ziti. I figured you could use a pick-me-up after yesterday. I've had plenty of sprained ankles and I'm familiar with not being able to be on my feet."

 

Immediately, her stomach growled and she blushed, covering her belly with a hand. "Oh, Sam, that's so sweet. You really didn't have to do that for me." Sharon tried to take the bowl from him, but he held it out of her reach.

 

"Of course, I did, but you just sit down, relax and I'll heat this up for you." Sam ushered her back to the couch.

 

Sharon wanted to refuse at first and try taking the bowl again because she was _hungry,_ but she realised that this may be Sam's way of showing her that he liked her. After all, men liked to look after women and make sure they're comfortable. Wasn't that one of their signs of interest? "Thanks, Sam. You're a lifesaver."

 

"Just being neighbourly," he replied and gave her a wink that was definitely not of the innocent, neighbourly variety and more of a flirtatious kind before heading into the kitchen.

 

"In that case, would you like to do something else for me?" 

 

Sam stopped walking and half-turned to look at her, curiously. "Okay..."

 

She pointed to the screen. "There's a Judge Judy marathon showing and I'd love to have some company."

 

A grin spread across Sam's face. "I could **never** say no to Judge Judy. Count me in."

 

Now it was Sharon's turn to smile. "You're the best, Sam."

 

"Ditto, Shar," came his reply and he continued walking towards the kitchen, whistling as he went.

 

Sharon felt a shiver of pleasure run through her at the nickname Sam just called her by. Once he was out of sight, she grabbed one of the couch pillows to her chest and sighed in contentment.

 

And here, she thought that she'd be spending the night all by herself being bored with no company. When Sam came back into the living room, Sharon was intent on giving the man a kiss as a symbol of her appreciation for his kindness.

 

_Well, my sprained ankle had a positive benefit, after all._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> To listen to the full song this fic was inspired from, click [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rUR6tEsBO2o)


End file.
